Fight (for) Your Country
by CharryWotter
Summary: America has been left in District 12 by Panem and virtually ignored for 74 years after his defeat. Now, still immortal and struggling from emotional scars, America is chosen to fight in the Hunger Games alongside Katniss. All Alfred wants is his citizens' safety, or at least a fair fight. But can the Games really be fair if Alfred can't die? And will Katniss discover his secret?


Alfred.

Katniss knew about him—everyone in District 12 knew about him—but she had never, not once, seen him attend the Reaping.

His true age was unknown. Nobody could remember the day of Alfred's birth, he had no parents, and when a Peacekeeper tried to find his file, the man was removed from his position and never seen again.

However, it seemed that Alfred was around 18, so why had he never gone to the Reaping? And why hadn't he been punished?

Katniss found Alfred's situation completely unfair. Every day, she worked to provide food for her family, but even with that, Prim had been forced to take tesserae.

But Alfred didn't work at all. Not even in the coal mines. He could always be found sitting in the corner of a dark alley, staring at the wall.

The people of the town whispered about him. Nobody knew how he hadn't yet starved to death or been removed by Peacekeepers. Of course, no one was brave enough to confront Alfred himself.

Katniss had heard all sorts of rumors regarding Alfred. Greasy Sae had taken her aside and whispered that Alfred was President Snow's shameful son who had been banished from the Capitol but kept alive. Gale had told her a story about how Alfred had lost his mind and would attack any Peacekeeper who approached him, so he was left alone.

Even Prim contributed to the stories. Just the other day she had whispered that he was a robot—a camera designed by the Capitol to spy on them all.

None of the ludicrous rumors seemed to be true.

As Katniss stood with a group of other 16 year-olds during the 74th Reaping, she could make out whispers about Alfred.

"What if his name is drawn?" one mousy-looking girl asked.

Katniss whipped her head over to the group of male 18 year-olds and gasped.

For the first time ever, Alfred had attended the Reaping.

...

During the mayor's speech about how Panem came to be, Katniss' mind was racing. What was special about this specific year? Had the Peacekeepers managed to force Alfred to come or had he come of his own accord?

Glancing over, Katniss could see that Alfred was shaking and his eyes seemed to be glazed with horror as he listened to the history of the Hunger Games and the Districts.

Maybe the rumors about his mental instability hadn't been that far off.

Finally, the video ended and Effie Trinket strode to the stage to pull the names. After a short speech in her silly Capitol voice, Effie strode to choose the female tribute.

Prim. She chose Prim.

Katniss had to volunteer for Prim. She could see no other option, so in no time at all Katniss found herself standing on the stage, with Prim safely crying in Gale's arms.

"—Bet my buttons that was your sister," Effie was saying, "Don't want her stealing all the glory, do we?"

Katniss could only press her trembling lips together to keep from sobbing.

"It is now time to choose the male tribute!" Effie trilled. "This is getting exciting!" She hurried over to the glass ball containing boys' names. "Alfred F. Jones!"

The whole crowd fell silent. Even the racketeers made no sound, their mouths gaping.

Everyone turned to the boy in question, and a path cleared for him to go up.

Alfred frowned.

After scanning the crowd, he began to slowly walk up to the stage. Each step echoed through the silent square.

By the time he climbed up on stage, Alfred's face was ashen.

Katniss wondered how, in the thousands of names, Alfred was chosen. And in his first reaping too.

Who knew, maybe he really was President Snow's son and his father had gotten tired of keeping him alive! …

America knew he'd be chosen.

Panem had given the Peacekeepers strict orders to leave him alone in the previous reapings, but for this one, he had personally contacted Alfred and told him he'd have to attend.

And what would be the point of Alfred attending if he wasn't chosen?

Still, the whole event was hard to process.

Shaking hands with the female candidate and meeting her eyes, Alfred's heart began to pound. His wild eyes widened.

This girl, Katniss, did not deserve to die.

None of the candidates did.

 _Except Alfred._

Of course, Alfred could not die. Not without regenerating hours later.

So maybe Panem just didn't want a winner this year, and Alfred was a placeholder. Or maybe Panem had some nasty trick up his sleeve.

Alfred's bony hand shook and he pulled away from Katniss.

He sank to the floor of the stage, not caring about how it would reflect on his image. No matter how many sponsors he had, Alfred would win.

The thought of indirectly killing 23 children in what used to be his own country for entertainment had Alfred gasping for breath. Tears started to fall from his eyes.

Nobody else on the stage knew how to react.

"Oh, dear!" Effie Trinket exclaimed. "Stop him," she hissed at the mayor, who took a step forward before stopping.

Haymitch Abernathy, clearly drunk, began laughing and fell off the stage, which at least gave the cameras something else to focus on.

While everyone's attention was focused on Haymitch, Katniss kneeled in front of Alfred.

"Look at me," she said intensely. " _Look at me._ "

Alfred shuddered and looked up.

"Maybe we'll die," she said, "but until then, we can't stop fighting. Otherwise, they've already won."

Alfred had a feeling that "they" didn't refer to the other competitors. He removed his glasses and wiped his eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

With a quick glance to make sure Haymitch was still the center of attention, Alfred put his face beside Katniss, who flinched, clearly wary of the closeness.

"You have to promise me one thing," he whispered in her ear. "No matter what happens, remember to fight Panem. Remember what Gale shouted all those days in the forest." He pulled away.

Katniss blanched and opened her mouth to question him, but the attention had returned them and she straightened up.

As Alfred was led away, he hoped that he hadn't revealed too much about himself.

Well, it wouldn't matter—Katniss would soon be dead.

A distorted laugh bubbled out of Alfred as tears sparked his eyes once more.

…

Alfred figured no one would come to say good-bye to him, so he was surprised when Gale Hawthorne entered the room.

Gale had always reminded Alfred of Switzerland—a good hunter who was fierce and fiercely protective of Lichtenstein.

And of course, Gale had come to protect his own Lichtenstein: Katniss.

"Look," Gale said shortly, sitting down on the couch, "I don't know what your deal is, but you better protect Katniss. Don't you dare to kill her. She's worth more than you'll ever be."

Alfred's lips trembled. "I know," he responded, voice cracking. "If I could save her, I would. If I could save all of them, I would." His voice dropped into a whisper that Gale, even with his sharp hearing, had to strain to hear. "If I could die, I would."

Gale stared at Alfred.

Alfred smiled weakly, a poor imitation of the blinding grin he used to wear.

When Gale still didn't respond, Alfred figured that his cryptically honest words had scared the kid.

"Uh, forget what I just said," Alfred said quickly. "But for real, you don't have to worry. Katniss and the others all have top priority for me when it comes to keeping someone alive."

Gale clearly hadn't expected this response. He cast around for something to say. "I still don't know if I can trust you, but if you're really telling the truth, ally with Katniss. She isn't the type to initiate things like this, but I need her to survive."

The boy's words shot Alfred like an arrow in the heart. He could only choke out an "Okay," and then the Peacekeepers were there, telling Gale that his time was up.

Alfred watched Gale walk out. The love in Gale's words and eyes was too much. Deep grief filled Alfred. He knew he couldn't save Katniss. He couldn't save any of them. And it was all Panem's fault.

He stood and punched the wall in his helpless fury.

Despite Alfred's malnutrition and bony figure (which was a far cry from his previous body, when he'd eaten hamburgers every day), he had somehow maintained his super strength.

The punch went straight through the wall and the momentum sent Alfred's whole body through the wall as well, and he hurtled into the next room over.

Alfred brushed himself off and looked up to see Katniss and Gale staring at him in absolute shock from where they'd been saying their goodbyes on a couch.

 _Shit._

He'd messed up.

Alfred gulped. "Sorry, guys. I got angry and…you know how it is…"

"Did you seriously just accidentally break through the whole wall?" Gale's tone was incredulous.

Alfred could just hear England's beratement of him. Sometimes he really was an idiot. _I need to start controlling my emotions._ "No, I did not break through the wall," Alfred said.

Two pairs of eyes flitted to his handiwork.

Alfred stepped back through the wall. "You didn't see anything. I totally did not break this wall, haha."

As Katniss and Gale stared at him, Alfred picked up a long chunk of the wood on the wood on the ground and covered the gap.

Now out of their sight, Alfred collapsed on the couch, which cracked in two.

Alfred sat on the floor until it was time to get on the train.

…

After the rest of the good-byes (in which Katniss' eyes invariably strayed to the broken wall multiple times), Katniss allowed herself to be led to the train.

She eyed Alfred warily.

"What?" he asked, his two hands raised in the air as he methodically lowered his fingers one at a time.

Katniss couldn't tell if Alfred genuinely didn't know or if he was messing with her. Despite Gale's words about his trustworthiness, she decided to keep a safe distance just in case. "Nothing. Why are you counting down?" she asked instead.

Alfred smirked and continued to lower his thin fingers. _Five. Four. Three._ "You'll see." _Two._

As Alfred lowered his last finger, a scream came from the Justice Building where they'd previously been.

The mayor strode out with several Peacekeepers flanking him. "What happened in there? Who destroyed my wall?"

The flashing cameras turned to the scene he was making.

Alfred turned to Katniss. "Hey, Katnip, what did you do to his wall?" He winked at her.

The whole situation would have been much more hilarious if the lives of Katniss' mother and Prim weren't on the line. "That wasn't me!" Katniss slapped Alfred across the face and his glasses fell to the floor, one of the lenses cracking.

It was clear that the people in the Capitol would love this drama.

Alfred's grin dropped and he slowly bent to retrieve his glasses. "Shit," Katniss heard him whisper. "Not Texas." Alfred turned to the mayor. "It was me, it's not a big deal. I just got angry and…yeah."

The mayor looked ready to argue, but the Head Peacekeeper walked up. "It's just Alfred again," he hissed at the Peacekeepers, who nodded and backed away.

Haymitch turned to Alfred and Katniss and pulled them onto the train quickly. Effie trotted up behind them, and the doors closed as the train began rolling.

Alfred finally allowed the tears to slip down his face. "My glasses!" He dropped onto a bench seat, placed the shattered glasses beside him, and hid his face in his hands.

Katniss felt guilt shoot through her. Sure, Alfred had been out of line with falsely accusing her, but now he wouldn't be able to see while people tried to kill him. Nobody deserved that.

"I'm sorry, I guess," Katniss muttered.

Alfred sniffled and lifted his head. "It's okay, I don't need my glasses to see."

Katniss was taken aback. "You don't? Then why were you wearing them?"

"No reason," Alfred said lightly, but his tortured eyes told a different story. "I stopped needing them a while back."

It was at that moment that Haymitch walked in and took a seat. Luckily, the confrontation with the mayor seemed to have sobered him up. "So, Alfred, with strength like you just showed, you might actually stand a chance."

Instead of brightening like Katniss would have expected, Alfred seemed to shrink in on himself. "I shouldn't be competing." His words were reluctant. "It won't be a fair fight."

"Let's not get too cocky," Haymitch snorted. "What about you, sweetheart?" he asked Katniss. "Got any special skills?"

"I can shoot," Katniss admitted.

"That's a start," Haymitch said. "But are you any good?"

"She's been single-handedly providing food for her family for over five years," Alfred interjected before Katniss could speak. "And she always shoots straight through the eye. So yeah, I'd say she's 'good'."

Katniss jerked away from the boy. "What? How do you know that?"

Alfred shrugged.

Effie strode in, not seeming to notice the dark glare Katniss was sending Alfred. "It's time for dinner!" she trilled.

Following Effie to the dining car, Katniss threw on a fake smile. Internally, her mind was whirring.

Alfred, President Snow's son or not, was dangerous.

Katniss could only hope that she could kill Alfred before he killed her.

…

Despite himself, Alfred had to brighten at the thought of food. In District 12, with no job, family, or friends, Alfred had literally starved. He was lucky if someone dropped scraps in his alley, and was only still alive due to the fact that he couldn't die.

Sure, it Alfred had wanted, he could've gotten a job. But with conditions the way they were, Alfred wanted the food that could be his to go to some starving child. Those real humans needed food more than him.

Now, however, any food Alfred didn't eat would just be thrown out. Therefore, his "hero complex" couldn't rear its ugly head and he could finally enjoy the food like he used to.

As Alfred sat at the table, he noticed that Katniss had specifically chosen to sit in the seat next to Haymitch and across from Effie, using the two mentors to block Alfred from her.

Alfred gulped. Back when the other countries had still been in touch, he, England, France, and Canadia would always go out to dinner together. If Alfred was being especially irritating (which was basically every time), England would position himself exactly like Katniss just had.

Blinking away the image of Arthur, Alfred furrowed his brow and stared at Katniss, wishing he could bring himself to hate her. She would be dead soon, maybe even at his own hands, so Alfred couldn't be comparing her to the country he had once loved.

Unfortunately, Katniss performed well under Alfred's gaze, coolly smiling at him before engaging the energetic Effie in a talk about the stylists. She seemed smart, athletic, and fiercely passionate—and not at all ready for death. And even though they were technically in Panem, she was still America's citizen.

He hated the thought of killing her.

Just then, the Avox servers began bringing out dishes of food, and Alfred's hunger returned to the forefront of his mind. How long had it been since he'd last eaten?

The aromas seeped into Alfred's nose and a sincere smile began to break out onto his face. Food had once been everything to Alfred, and despite being unable to permanently die of starvation, being deprived of food had been torturous.

An Avox brought in the last dish, and everybody began serving themselves. Everybody but Alfred, whose smile had frozen on his face at the sight of the final dish.

Lamb chops.

And suddenly, Alfred was no longer sitting on a train riding into the Capitol in Panem. He was back in... _Colonial America._

" _Engwand!" Young America cried, throwing his arms around the older nation. "You've been gone for so long!"_

" _I'm sorry, lad," England replied, sighing heavily. "There's just so much going on in Europe right now, but I'll be sure to visit more often."_

 _Tears welled up in America's eyes and his lips began to wobble. "But I don't want you to leave again!"_

 _England frowned, before shaking off his dark emotions and placing a caring smile on his face. "Well, guess what I brought you!" he said cheerfully, holding up a bag._

 _America's attention was successfully diverted. "What is it? Is it food?"_

 _The older nation chuckled. "That's right, lad. I made us dinner." He set the food out on plates for himself and Alfred, enjoying his colony's excitement._

 _America was beaming after the first few bites. "This is so good, Engwand! What is it?"_

 _"They're lamb chops, a dish often eaten in my country." England responded. "Do you like them?"_

 _America nodded enthusiastically. "Can you make these for me again sometime? Maybe when you next visit?" His eyes shone hopefully._

 _England smiled gently. "Yes, Alfred. The next time I visit, I promise I'll make you lamb chops," he said, and America launched into his arms for a hug before England and his colony said their goodbyes._

 _But then England didn't visit for a long, long while. And by the time he did, America was much older and rebellious and angry, and definitely not about to eat anything prepared by England._

 _And even after the two had mended their relationship, and became friends once more, England never fulfilled his promise. America never ate England's lamb chops again._

The clearing of a throat startled Alfred from his memory, and he looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring at him.

Alfred took a shaky breath, his nose inadvertently picking up the scent of lamb chops. Suddenly the idea of eating had lost its glamor, and Alfred felt nauseous from the smell of all the food.

Hands shaking and heart beating erratically, Alfred abruptly stood from the table, still aware of the eyes watching his every move.

"I…I can't do this," Alfred gasped out, and without further explanation, he bolted out of the train car and locked himself in his room. It wasn't until Alfred was pressed inside his closet with a pillow over his mouth that he began to scream.

…

Katniss glanced at the remaining two dinner companions curiously, intrigued to find that neither seemed the least bit caught off guard.

"That boy has a screw loose," Haymitch chuckled, gulping back the rest of his glass of wine and immediately pouring himself another.

Strangely enough, Effie seemed to agree. "Well, I'm sure we can whip him in shape in time for the Games!" she replied, pursing her bright pink lips.

Katniss felt that it would be in her best interest to uncover as much information about Alfred as possible so she would have an advantage in the arena. "Why did he run out?" she asked, feigning casualty.

Haymitch and Effie exchanged a loaded glance.

"That doesn't matter, dear," Effie finally said in a placating tone. "Alfred has always been a little…different. Don't pay him any mind."

Katniss smiled sweetly at her. "Oh, I won't," she promised, hoping she wasn't laying on the act too thick—though, judging by Haymitch's snort, she was. Effie hadn't seemed to notice, though. "It was just so rude, how he ran off like that in the middle of dinner!"

Effie immediately brightened and began a long-winded speech about the importance of manners, while Katniss nodded in fake sympathy.

When dinner was finally over, Katniss made sure that Effie had bustled away before she snuck away to find Alfred.

Because Katniss wanted to be ready for the upcoming Games. Katniss wanted to know everything about the ally she intended to eventually kill. Katniss wanted her confusion satiated.

Katniss wanted _answers._

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this fic, so if you want me to, make sure to leave a Review! :)


End file.
